Just the Beauty
by RusticAddy
Summary: If it was just the beauty, Jacob would have had no problem tearing Tanya of the Denali clan apart. But the knowing—and the love—could stop him. One shot.


A Twilight Fanfiction

Disclaimer:I don't own Twilight or any of it characters.

* * *

><p>"Aw, shit," Jacob Black murmured.<p>

He stood in the middle of a clearing in the forest. The scene was like something out of a book of fairytales. The grass was soft and green and the earliest wildflowers were beginning to bloom in patches across it. On the other hand, when the forest began again, winter still had a clear hold. Though enough of the trees were pines to keep the shadows present, the greenery did little to soften the bleak, chilly air.

His brothers were ringed around him, excepting Sam, who stood in front of him, the center of the pack. In the shadows, a coven of vampires lurked, excepting one—obviously the leader, who came out just far enough that she was entirely illuminated. The one hand she had out in the clearing sparkled, as if encrusted by diamonds.

She was beautiful, with strawberry blond hair and topaz eyes. Her nose was small, turned up in an almost cheeky fashion; her lips were pink and full. She had slender hands and long, delicate fingers, and a petite and slender form. Her voice was breezy and soft as she talked with Sam.

The beauty was a bloodsucker thing, and if that had been the whole of it, Jacob knew he could deal. Looks weren't everything, hadn't ever been anything—God knows, he had loved Bella, and while she was a far cry from ugly, she wouldn't have been able to hold a candle to this leech's splendor. But, Lord it wasn't just the beauty—it was the moment of enlightenment, a staggering rush of dizziness that came with a sudden lack of gravity and then the overwhelming rush of blood through his veins when it was turned back on. But not from the same source. If Jacob was a planet, he would be orbiting around this parasite.

If it was just the beauty, Jacob would have had no problem tearing Tanya of the Denali clan apart. But the knowing—and the love—could stop him.

"There's no need for bloodshed," Sam announced loudly. "If the entire coven is willing to leave our land immediately, then we will let this pass. After all—" here he paused to smile, "if push came to shove, we do outnumber you. It would hardly be a challenge."

"You would be surprised at what we could do with uneven numbers, dog," a sneering female voice taunted from inside the wood. Jacob saw a flash of brown hair to go with it.

"Irene," Tanya said warningly, before addressing Sam. "Agreed. We will leave immediately. I hope you accept our apology for trespassing on you land—we had no idea that the Cullens would evacuate so soon, and were not clear on the boundary lines laid by their treaty—"

"Apology?" The brunette—Irene—was suddenly in the clearing. She was just as lovely as Tanya, though she dwarfed her companion. Her lips were shaped in a delicate pout, and her equally gold eyes were narrowed with hate. "These things killed Laurent, in case you don't remember, Tanya!"

Sam looked back long enough to flash an admonishing glare at Paul, who was beginning to tremble precariously. "We are sorry for your loss," he told Irene, holding his hands palm-out in the universal symbol for peace. "But he was preying on the humans here, and we were unable to allow such behavior to continue—"

"Liar!" Irene screeched, her face twisted in rage. "He was just as civil as us! You just can't resist an opportunity to kill, you mindless, savage beasts!" Tanya's arms snaked out to grab Irene's wrist as she lunged out to attack. But it was too late.

Paul leaped out into the clearing past Sam, landing on the ground in his wolf shape. His shredded clothes rained down to the ground. In the moment of shock that followed, Irene wrenched her arm away from Tanya and rushed out to respond, snarling. The reaction was instantaneous. Tanya and the remaining two vampires—both female, Jacob noted—rushed to protect their clan mate as the rest of the wolves morphed and went on the offensive. All except Jacob.

Jacob quietly slipped from the clearing and ran, knowing it would take only seconds before the pack realized that he had not changed to join the fight. But by then, he figured they would be so into the fight that they would not come after him until they had finished of the Denali clan. Still, it did not give him much of a head start, so Jacob ran.

He ran because he knew what the outcome of this fight was going to be. Even without his presence, seven of the pack were in that clearing; there were only four vampires. Despite the brunette's claim that they had ways to make up for the discrepancy, he knew that there was no chance. The vampires would lose. He refused to even hope otherwise, refused to let the gleam in Tanya's eyes when she had leapt to Irene's defense make him rethink the odds.

The woman who he had imprinted on—the love of his life, who he would never get to talk to—would die.

When Jake returned to the clearing an hour later, they were all dead.

His brothers were laid in a line along the ground, motionless and pale, their bodies bruised and broken and their throats slit. Across the clearing lay one of the female vampires, dismantled, but already starting to reassemble herself. Irene walked along the bodies slowly, leaning over to close each of their eyelids, before picking up one of her pale hands off the ground and pressing it against the appropriate wrist. Jacob's stomach twisted when she looked up—her mouth smeared with blood.

"Oh, shit." Jake fell to his knees. He thanked God for the numbness that had overtaken when he had thought Tanya would die, when he knew she wasn't going to survive.

"Irene wasn't bluffing when she said we could even up the odds," she whispered. And then, "I'm so sorry."

And suddenly, there was no distance between them. Tanya pressed a desperate, sweet, cold kiss against his lips, and then everything went black.


End file.
